


Spark Inside (Let It Burn)

by arcaneheart



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Hate Sex, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 02:29:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18714667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcaneheart/pseuds/arcaneheart
Summary: Ash and Arthur weren’t quite friends - no, they didn’t actually like each other enough to warrant that kind of a description. Rivals might have been the closest, but it suggested that Ash saw Arthur as anything but beneath his notice, it ignored the complicated game of whatever the hell this was.





	Spark Inside (Let It Burn)

Fucking Ash was a lot like fighting him - one of them had to win before it was allowed to be over.

It was never soft lips and wet tongues lapping against skin or fingertips brushing with designed delicacy. It was always tender bits of flesh between gnashed teeth and fingernails leaving behind red, angry welts. It was never his place or Ash’s, never anything so personal. Instead, it was dirty alleyways, gravel and concrete leaving them cuts and scrapes as souvenirs, or the back room of some anonymous hideout.

Tonight it was the latter. And with Ash beneath him like this, legs spread and cock flush with open desire, it was almost easy for Arthur to imagine he was in control for once. That he had tamed the lynx to the role of a disobedient kitten he could admonish.

He’d known Ash was going to be a fuckload of trouble the minute he became Golzine’s favorite pet, the minute he’d caught the hardened look of his sharp green eyes. And of course, people followed him, because how couldn’t they? Sooner than he’d like to admit, guys who had answered to him flocked to Ash, drawn to that charisma, that power, that _something_.

Arthur was drawn to it, too. But fuck it if he’d ever admit that to Ash. That’s not what this was about.

“Fuck,” Ash groaned as Arthur pushed into him with a particularly tight grip on his thighs. His nails dug into the soft skin and a slick heat bubbled up beneath them; he may have drawn blood.

“What kind of mouth is that?” Arthur sneered. “Do you kiss your mother with that?” Ash met his eyes, unfazed.

“Not even once. I was just sucking your dick with it, though.”

“Like a fuckin’ whore,” Arthur growled at him. Ash’s eyes darkened at the statement. It was a challenge and taken as such. Arthur knew how prickly Ash got about any reference to that, which is exactly why it gave him such a thrill to jostle the kitten when his claws were retracted. To take him off his goddamn pedestal, even for a minute, even if it took a little shove once in a while.

 So Arthur thrust into him with abandon, the force of it occasionally drawing a gasp or a yelp out of him. He held Ash’s hands down to his sides, pressed deep into the mattress, knowing full well the dark, purple bruises it would leave behind. He bit down onto Ash's lips when he kissed him, the sound he made somewhere between a moan and a growl.

It worked the other way around too, fighting with Ash felt a lot like fucking him. When they sparred, it was always that much more tense, serious, the touch of skin to skin and the flowing wetness of blood like a violent, savage foreplay to the things they really wanted to do.

The cold hardened look in his eyes was a stark contrast to the tight heat around Arthur’s cock. Ash relaxed beneath him, let himself be taken so easily, his smart goddamn mouth empty of any insults and filled with a panting, moaning pleasure. He was always a lot more tolerable like this, stuffed full of Arthur’s cock and pliant to his demands. Or at least it seemed that way.

Until Arthur felt the subtle movement as Ash’s legs tightened around him and his weight shifted, almost too fast to perceive, their movements a blur of confusion until suddenly Arthur was pinned down onto his back, Ash still speared onto him, riding him with a wicked look in his eyes.

“Too slow,” Ash cooed at him. “Always letting yourself get distracted.” He was right. Arthur had let himself get too relaxed in the moment. This wasn’t for their enjoyment, after all.

Arthur moved quickly this time, he seized Ash’s wrists and tugged, hard, until his arms were behind his back at an angle that suggested a painful stretch of discomfort. Ash didn’t flinch, even as he bit at his lip in surprise, he didn’t struggle to release himself either. He instead began to grind his hips down onto Arthur with even more enthusiasm, leaning backward until the angle was just right to draw a strangled moan out of him.

“Is that the best you can do?” Ash asked in the space between pants and Arthur was too far gone to respond to him, bucking his hips up into that inviting heat.

He hated Ash, most of the time. Probably, anyway. Their encounters were the closest he ever got to thinking about exactly how he felt about the boy who’d shown up, beautiful and dangerous, and had taken everything away from him - including his reputation and his dignity, the leadership of a group that had been the only thing he’d had that felt like a family in his entire life. Without it, he was empty.

Without it, all that was left was a gaping, yawning void that couldn’t be filled with blood or guns, certainly not with love for Ash Lynx. But hating him burned hot enough to cauterize the wound, for a while, until it opened up again. And again. And again.

With a sharp gasp, Ash came in a sudden onslaught, the hot spurts of it falling across Arthur’s chest, marking him. Arthur thrust up again, he was so close, his eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. And then it was gone, the warmth of Ash's body, the tight inviting pleasure he was chasing. 

By the time he opened his eyes, Ash had already slipped off of the mattress, adorned in his underwear and pulling on one pant leg. He looked at Arthur, who hadn’t moved yet, his cock still aching with its intercepted release.

There was never any satisfaction with Ash, like a spark that refused to ignite.

“Is there a problem?” Ash quirked an eyebrow, his lips tilted into a smirk.

“Asshole.”

“As far as I know, you still have one good hand,” Ash said, pulling his t-shirt over his head. "Maybe put it to use." He didn't look at Arthur as he finished dressing, as he turned to walk away. 

When it came down to it, Ash was always in control, always a step ahead, and always willing to remind him of that fact. Arthur didn’t even know if Ash wanted him, or if he just wanted Arthur to know his place. Whatever it was, it fed the burning, angry resentment inside of him.

"Fuck you."

"Better luck next time," Ash said, without looking back. 

The last thing Arthur saw as he turned his head was Ash's back disappearing through the door frame, and he heard the quiet hollow click of the door closing behind him, leaving Arthur alone once more. 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me if you are a fellow heathen! [arcaneheart1](https://twitter.com/arcaneheart1) on Twitter.


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